ok tea as serenely as though there were no such things in the world as
murder and swindling and puzzling police riddles to solve.

And the major, staring at him, was as amazed as ever. He had said, last
night, that when the coin fell the answer would be given, and yet it had
fallen, and nothing had happened, and he was laughing and flirting with
Senorita Rosario as composedly and as persistently as ever. More than
that; after he had finished his second cup of tea, and immediately
following the sound of some one just beyond the veranda rail whistling
the lively, lilting measures of "There's a Girl Wanted There," "the
silly ass" seemed to become a thousand times sillier than ever. He set
down his cup, and, turning to Anita, said with an inane sort of giggle,
"I say, you know, here's a lark. Let's have a game of 'Slap Hand,' you
and I--what? Know it, don't you? You try to slap my hands, and I try to
slap yours, and whichever succeeds in doing it first gets a prize. Awful
fun, don't you know. Come on--start her up."

And, Anita agreeing, they fell forthwith to slapping away at the backs
of each other's hands with great gusto, until, all of a sudden, the
whistler outside gave one loud, shrill note, and--there was a great and
mighty change.

Those who were watching saw Anita's two hands suddenly caught, heard a
sharp, metallic "click," and saw them as suddenly dropped again to the
accompaniment of a shrill little scream from her ashen lips, and the
next moment Cleek had risen and jumped away from her side clear across
to where Zuilika was; and those who were watching saw Anita jump up with
a pair of steel handcuffs on her wrists, just as Dollops vaulted up over
the veranda rail and appeared at one window, whilst Petrie appeared at
another, Hammond poked his body through a third, and the opening door
gave entrance to Superintendent Narkom.

"The police!" shrilled out Anita in a panic of fright. "_Madre de Dios_,
the police!"

The major and his son were on their feet like a shot. Zuilika, with a
faint, startled cry, bounded bolt upright, like an imp shot through a
trap-door; but before the little henna-stained hands could do more than
simply move, Cleek's arms went round her from behind, tight and fast as
a steel clamp, there was another metallic "click," another shrill cry,
and another pair of wrists were in gyves.

"Come in, Mr. Narkom; come in, constables," said Cleek, with the utmost
composure. "Here are your promised